by Olivia Chase
My heart is in my throat, and I’m hyper aware of his fingers intertwined with mine. This is the first time he’s ever held my hand. It’s a small thing, a silly thing to focus on. But it makes me feel…special.
The entire time I’ve known him, Asher has never had a steady girlfriend. Over the years we hung out, he had girls he dated on and off. Girls I was painfully jealous of. Beautiful, slender, popular.
Girls who never lasted, my brain whispers to me.
I never could figure out what he saw in me, though. Why he wanted to hang out with me. But he did. At least, until that night.
And he’s here now, and trying to win me back. But as what? Not just as a friend. No, that kiss, the way he looks at me with heat in his eyes, that’s not friendly at all. It’s almost like a predator hunting his prey.
God help me, I want to be his prey. I want him to devour me.
We get up to the booth, and the woman running it gives us a bored look. She has long, scraggly gray hair and is missing a few of her teeth. “Dolla for four shots. Two dollas for ten. It’s a bargain.” Her voice has a heavy twang from the south.
I bite my lower lip and try not to laugh as Asher scratches his chin. “Gosh, that really is a steal,” he says to her. “Let’s go for the ten shots.”
I swat his shoulder. “You goof. I’ll just watch you this round. What are you going to win?”
“What do you want?” He turns to me, and while there isn’t any innuendo in his eyes, I know the answer to his question.
Him. God, I want him.
It’s probably foolish, but I do.
“Off the wall, kitten,” he adds with a smirk. The arrogant jerk knows exactly what I was thinking. Shit.
I fight the flush threatening to crawl up my cheeks. Turn my attention toward the wall of prizes. “That one,” I say, pointing to a massive purple unicorn hanging behind the woman. It has to be at least four feet tall, with a glittery horn that shimmers in the light. I don’t know what made me say that. It would probably cost more for him to win it than for me to buy it. But maybe I want to put him in his place a little. He’ll end up spending a few bucks, probably miss more shots than he gets, and we’ll settle on a small bear and it’ll be fine.
Asher eyes me, one brow raised. “Really?”
I lift my chin. “You asked what I wanted, not what I expected you to win.”
“Oh, so you don’t think I can win it for you?” There’s a teasing challenge in his tone.
“No, I don’t. No one ever wins those things,” I say with a smirk.
Asher slaps a twenty-dollar bill on the table. The woman doesn’t look impressed; she just points him toward the first seat and gives him thickly accented instructions—he has a certain amount of time to fill the balloons enough to make them pop.
He settles into the seat, and I see a change come over him, a focus that I only saw him have on the football field. Determination.
Asher aims, fires, fills and pops balloon after balloon. It’s uncanny.
“Where did you learn to—”
“Shh,” he says with a laugh. “I’m in the zone.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, but chuckle. I continue to stand behind him and watch as he works his way through the small prizes, then the medium. At this point, even the woman working the booth starts getting interested. She’s stopped picking at her hair to pay attention to what he’s doing.
There are even a small crowd of kids around us, pointing and talking about how awesome Asher is.
He ignores everyone, just steadily continues to shoot the balloons until the woman says, “Okay, fine, well done. Ya got it. Pick out your prize.”
Asher drops the gun and stands, points at the purple unicorn. When she hands it to him, he gives it to me, eyes locked hard on mine.
Message received, Asher. My pulse kicks into high gear, and I feel my core tighten. I know exactly what he’s telling me. That he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.
And what he wants is me. I feel it in the weight of his eyes.
I wrap my arms around the unicorn’s neck. Its fur is soft. In an attempt to lighten the mood and turn my attention away from my desire, I blurt out, “So what are we going to name it?”
He tilts his head at me. “Uh, what? It needs a name?”
I roll my eyes. “Duh. We have to name our love child.”
“Love child.” His eyes narrow. “That was awful fast.”
“You’re the one who gave it to me. You can’t back out of being a dad now.” I shrug. “It’s the law.”
“Fair enough.” He scratches his chin and rests his hand on my lower back, leading me away from the booth. “This is a serious thing. I mean, we just created a life together. We can’t name it any old fucking thing. First we have to find out if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“It’s definitely a girl,” I say with a chuckle.
“How the hell do you know that?”
I hold the unicorn up so its belly is facing him. “Do you see a penis anywhere? ‘Cuz I sure don’t.”
That makes him bark a laugh. He inspects the unicorn closely for several seconds, making a show of grabbing it from me and turning it over to inspect its ass. “You make a valid point, kitten. Okay, we had a girl. Congrats, Mom.” He pauses. “How about…Marshmallow.”
“Marshmallow the Unicorn. That’s our love child’s name.”
“Do you have a better idea?” He raises a brow.
“Actually, no. It’s perfect. I’m just curious why that name.”
“When I was in first grade, I was in the marshmallow club. Our goal was to stuff as many marshmallows in our mouth as possible at lunch. I loved the purple ones the best that came out around Easter—they were that color.” His chuckle slides over me, and he gives a bashful shrug. “It’s stupid, I know. I just remember thinking that was fun.”
My heart gives a painful kick. Learning these small things about him that I didn’t know before just makes me want him more. The arousal I felt comes roaring back to the surface, and my clit pulses with need. I squeeze my legs together. Don’t do this, I will myself. It’s just a regular…date. Or something.
I may be nothing more than a quick fling, an itch he wants to scratch.
It’s stupid, but right now I want to be a fling. I would take anything I could get to be closer to him. God, I’m a desperate idiot.
Asher takes Marshmallow from me, tucks it under his arm, and together we walk toward the funnel cakes. “You still love these, right?”
He remembers. That warmth spreads from my chest out to my limbs. I nod. He orders one for us and then we move to a bench near the fair’s perimeter and sit down. Marshmallow is propped on his other side, and he’s close to me, our bodies pressed along our thighs, our upper arms. I feel the heat pouring off him and it’s so hard to not lean closer into it. He smells like musk and man.
The powdered sugar sticks to my fingers. I lick the tip of my index finger, and I hear a soft groan.
“That’s so fucking hot, Whitney. Are you doing that on purpose?”
I slide the digit between my lips and then draw it back out again, locking eyes with him. My lower belly throbs with my pulse, and I feel myself growing wet from the heat in his eyes. “I wasn’t before, but I am now,” I whisper as I suck my middle finger into my mouth.
When I withdraw it, he grabs my hand and swipes his tongue out to lick my last two fingers, then slide his hot mouth along their length. I gasp at the wet sucking sensation. My pussy grows tighter, wetter, and I can feel my panties soaking now. Oh God, his mouth…it’s sinful and magnetic. I want it on me, all over.
His eyes tell me he wants that, too.
“You owe me a reward,” he says when he pulls my fingers out of his mouth. His voice is harsh with the edge of desire. I can feel it pouring off him.
“I do?” My own voice is little more than a breath at this point. I’m flooded with hunger for him. Every bit of me wants his mouth and hands all over me. My pussy aches to be touched. I need him.<
br />
Asher’s bright eyes bore into mine. “I won Marshmallow for you. And you owe me a kiss for that.”
I swallow. I want his mouth on mine so badly I could scream. “Oh, is that right?” My voice is throaty, seductive. I hardly sound like myself. With Asher, I feel like someone else. Someone brazen, bold. Someone who lets her body lead her where she wants to go.
And where my body wants to go is up against his.
His eyes are hot and heavy on me as he looks me over. “All I’m asking for is a kiss. Just a simple thing.”
But I want more. I can’t deny it to myself. I want more of Asher, right now.
I lean forward and press my lips against his. It’s hard to keep control over myself, because I want to straddle his lap and ride him. But I remind myself that we’re in public, on a bench where anyone can see us. That I know a lot of people here and I can’t lose control. Even though I desperately want to.
The feel of his mouth on mine makes my arousal scream louder. My pussy is pulsing in time with my heart, a strong throb that reverberates through my body. I need more than just his mouth. I need his hands. His body. I need…I need…
He shifts to deepen the kiss, and I gasp in pleasure. Yes. God. Yes. His mouth tastes like sin and pleasure and everything I crave. He almost makes me forget where I am. Who I am.
Asher rips his mouth off me, his eyes hooded and dark. Raw lust pours off him. “I want to taste you.”
“You just did,” I say, drawing in breath. My chest is heaving.
His wicked smirk makes my stomach tighten and the air lock in my lungs. “Not your mouth, kitten.”
“Right…here?” I swallow. Asher’s so wicked. But I have to admit, the thought of him licking my pussy here at the fair…it makes me squirm.
He nuzzles my neck, bites. The sting of his teeth makes me gasp, and then he licks and kisses the spot, and I melt into him. “I can’t wait to get home. I need to lick that cunt right now, kitten. Right fucking now.”
I stand on shaky legs, my head light, my body trembling my need. He grabs my hand and stands, taking Marshmallow with us and leading me toward the woods. The sun is sliding down, and shadows are starting to slant through the trees.
We head about fifty feet in, and he drops Marshmallow against a tree then backs me along an adjacent one.
“I’m going to eat your pussy, Whitney. If I don’t taste you in the next minute, I’m going to fucking die.” The way he says the words, so passionately, makes me believe that he really feels this way. That he wants me this badly.
My fingers shake as I reach toward the button of my shorts. He puts his big hands on mine and stills them.
“Let me.” His mouth nuzzles my neck as he reaches for my button and undoes it, then unzips my shorts. With a soft whish, the fabric slides down to my ankles, followed swiftly by my panties. “Oh, fuck,” he breathes as he kneels before me, his hands sliding reverently along my thighs. I can hear the worship in his voice. “I can’t wait to taste this pussy. I’ve fantasized about it for months now.”
“You have?” I can’t hide the shock from my tone.
Asher looks up at me. The raw desire in his eyes drives the breath from my lungs. “Of course I have. You’re fucking gorgeous, Whitney.”
“Please,” I say, clutching the back of his head. I need to give him what he wants. I need to feel his mouth on me. No one has touched me this way before, with a mouth down there, but in this moment, I want it to be Asher, my first. “Please…taste me.” It’s hard to say the words, but once I do, the beast is unleashed.
Asher clenches my bare ass and presses his mouth to my mound. His teeth grazing my clit makes me gasp and spread my thighs wider. I draw one leg out of my shorts so I can widen my stance.
“My God, you smell fucking incredible,” he says as he breathes me in. His nose nuzzles me, then his tongue reaches out and swipes along my slit, and I almost lose myself, my legs growing weak.
I hold on to his shoulders to keep me upright as Asher ravages my pussy, his mouth sucking and licking and biting. I’ve never felt any sensation like it before. My head swims, and I lean it back against the tree behind me.
His hands dig deeper into my ass. He’s relentless with his licking, and I feel my core tightening. My pelvis bucks of its own volition. I gasp.
“Fuck yes,” he murmurs against me. “You taste better than I ever dreamed, kitten. I need more. I want your come on my mouth.” Then a finger slides inside my pussy. Strokes.
I gasp and dig my fingers into his scalp, pressing my mouth to him, mindless of anything else, heedless of the fact that we’re outside and could be caught at any time. All I know is I want him to pleasure me. To make me come.
All I need is Asher.
“God,” I gasp. “That…feels so good.” I had no idea that it could be like this, so intense, so freeing. His mouth works my clit while his finger thrusts inside me, his other hand moving to stroke my thighs, and my legs begin to shake.
I feel the telltale tightening in me and start to pant.
“You’re getting close for me, aren’t you, baby,” he says as he redoubles his effort, slides two fingers in me, pumps my pussy.
I arch under his expert touch. My nipples harden as my breasts swell. I need him everywhere on me. I want to strip naked and have him lay me on the ground. Thrust his cock into me. God, I crave, I crave…
The world grows fuzzy as my entire focus homes in on my pussy. His fingers begin to flutter inside me, and when a third one enters, spreading me wide, forcing my hole tight, I feel the orgasm coming close. His tongue flicks at my clit, his teeth biting my labia, his mouth hot and wet and insistent, and then everything explodes.
I cry out—I can’t fight it back. I cry out and my voice echoes in the woods, and I’m sure everyone at the fair can hear me but for the life of me, I just don’t care.
I cry out and I come and come all over his hands and mouth. My juices gush out in a rush, coating his face, his fingers.
And when the wave starts to subside, Asher stands and takes my mouth in a possessive kiss. I can taste my own come on his mouth, which makes my arousal spike again. Wow. It’s so dirty and sexy.
His voice is dark and edgy with his own need as he growls, “I fucking need to be inside you, Whitney. Tell me yes.”
All I can do is nod.
Asher
It’s so fucking difficult to focus. All I can taste is Whitney’s cunt on my mouth, and my cock is so hard it could hammer a nail. I draw her panties back up her smooth legs, pressing hot kisses to her thighs, then bring up her shorts. I want to fuck her right now, want to plow into that wet, tight pussy right fucking here in these woods, but given the loud way she cried out from her orgasm, it might draw too much attention.
Someone might already have heard her and could be heading this way any minute.
So I’ll settle for taking her back to my room, where I can stretch her out naked and take my time. The way I should have the first time she and I were together. When I freaked out and fucked up and ran off.
Not this time. This time, she will be mine. No walking away from Whitney. My Whitney. My kitten.
I grab the unicorn and then her hand and lead her out of the woods, my steps fast and purposeful. We plow through the crowd, then make it to my car. I toss Marshmallow in the back seat.
“No car seat for our baby?” she murmurs.
I laugh. “Unicorns are magical. She’ll be okay.” I get into my seat and rev the car. My cock is still throbbing with my desire.
Lust.
Fuck, I want her so badly I can barely sit still. I reach over and grip her warm thigh, where my mouth was not five minutes ago.
The drive back to my apartment seems to take a hundred years. I don’t see Jax or Brooklyn’s cars, which means the place is all ours. Thank fuck. Because I want to make Whitney scream tonight. I whip into the parking spot and shut off the car.
“Leave Marshmallow there,” I growl as I rip my door open. We’ll get the damned st
uffed animal later.
We head inside, her hand tucked in mine. I can feel her fingers trembling. When I turn back to look at her and make sure it’s desire, not fear, her eyes link with mine, and her lips part. She radiates arousal, which kicks mine up another notch.
Fuck yes.
I key the door open then bring her inside and lead her right to my room. When the door closes behind me, I growl, “You’re mine now. Take your clothes off.”
Her breathing is shallow as she removes her tank top. Her ribs rise and fall when she draws in quick breaths and unfastens her shorts. I stay in place, watching her, willing myself to not move.
I want to savor this. Not rush it.
I’m going to fuck her until she can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t breathe.
Whitney lets her panties and shorts slide down her hips, her legs, then reaches behind her to unfasten her bra. When she frees her breasts, I feel anticipation and excitement flood my veins. My cock pounds against my zipper; I try to ignore it for a moment, despite its insistence. This moment isn’t about me.
I want to pleasure her, make her wetter and hungrier. Aching. Then, only then, when she’s begging for me, will I fuck her.
I take her hand and lay her out on my bed. Watching her hair spill across my pillow makes my heart throb. I ignore the emotions layering in there and watch as she spreads her thighs open, her eyes locked hard on mine.
An invitation. One I don’t intend to ignore.
Her breasts are large and firm, her nipples beaded to hard points. Her thighs curve up to her hips, indent at her waist. My mouth waters as I look her naked body over. Fuck. How did I walk away from her before?
I tug off my clothes then get on top of her, my cock pulsing between us. Our bodies heat upon contact, and I stretch my legs out along her full length. I take her mouth again, let my hands slide along her. Her soft moans and the way she wraps her thighs around me spikes my desire. I need her.
Whitney’s hands slide along my back.
I arch under her touch. My skin craves her fingers, and when her mouth touches my neck, I groan. Her tongue swipes at my throat, licking the V at the base of my neck. I hear her breathing grow rapid.